Love
by reciprocityfic
Summary: Michonne spends a quiet morning in bed with Rick, and contemplates love.


**Author's Note:** Hi! I know I should be writing _A Slight Return Home_ , and I'm not quite sure what this is, but I hope you enjoy it anyways. It's just fluff, but everyone needs a little sickly-sweet fluff sometimes, am I right or am I right?

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When Michonne was seventeen, she had her heart broken for the first time. It was a nothing relationship, with a boy she can barely remember the name of now, but at the time, she didn't realize that. At the time, all she knew was he was smart, handsome, and too charming for his own good, and she thought she was going to marry him.

She caught him making out with the captain of the volleyball team in a janitor's closet after school at mock trial practice, and that was that.

A few weeks later, her grandmother came to visit. She was still feeling blue at that point, and she remembers her grandmother wrapping an arm around her as Michonne laid her head on her shoulder, and speaking to her in her steady, melodic voice.

" _Right now, it might seem like the end of the world. But someday, someone's going to love you so much, that they would never dream of hurting you. They won't be capable of it, they'll love you so much. And you'll love them back the same way. You'll love them so much, that it'll make your heart ache. So much that sometimes, it won't seem real. But it will be real. And it's out there for you. Don't settle. Wait for it."_

She didn't believe her grandmother. Her words got caught up in Michonne's hurt and embarrassment, and failed to register. Even as time passed, and she forgot that boy, and grew from a girl into a woman, her opinion didn't change. She'd had enough relationships come and go, seen enough friends spend night after night crying over people who didn't deserve them, to know that her grandmother had romanticized the idea of love to soothe her sadness. Love was good - great even, sometimes - but it wasn't what people cracked it up to be.

So she settled.

She doesn't deny that she loved Mike. Not to the degree presented by her grandmother, of course. But she did love him. He was kind, clever, and thoughtful, and most importantly, he was good to her. She didn't hesitate to build a life with him. And she was content. She was happy. He made her happy.

It's different now.

Her life is harder. The world around her is dangerous and deadly. Every day brings with it new fights and struggles.

And yet, she's just as happy. _Happier_. Happier than she's ever been.

It's because of the man in bed next to her.

She lays on her side and faces him. He's on his stomach, his head turned towards her, mouth slightly open and eyes closed as he sleeps. She smiles. She loves watching him sleep; he looks so peaceful. Usually, constant stress and worry weigh him down. But when he sleeps, that goes away, and all that's left is the serenity that slumber tends to bring. He looks younger when he sleeps, and lighter, somehow.

She doesn't wake him right away. He doesn't often get to sleep in. Plus, she wore him out last night. The thought brings another grin to her face, this one more devilish than the last. Judith had wanted to sleep over at Aaron and Gracie's, so she and Rick had the house to themselves.

They'd taken advantage, to say the least. She stretches slightly, and finds she's sore in the most delicious of ways.

He stirs, and she watches as his eyes slowly blink open. His bleary gaze finds hers, and he smiles.

"Hey, beautiful," he rasps, his voice rough with sleep. He reaches out and slips his hand under the covers and around her waist, spreads his large hand out over her naked back and then pulls her closer.

"Hey, yourself," she whispers back, nuzzling her nose against his and then placing her hand on his head and running her palm over his hair. He'd cut it recently, so she was no longer able to twine her fingers through his long curls, which she missed, admittedly. But she couldn't deny that this new look was good on him, and she loved the sensation of the short, fuzzy strands rubbing along her skin.

He hums, and leans into her hand. Then, he grabs it, brings it to his mouth, and softly kisses each of her fingertips before wrapping his arm around her waist again and pulling her closer with a gruff, "C'mere."

He kisses her, slowly and deeply, and her stomach does the best kind of somersaults. When they separate, they lock gazes. She stares into his eyes, blue as the sky on a clear, sunny, summer afternoon, and she can't help the laugh that escapes her.

She believes her grandmother, now.

She believes in the type of love the woman described to her all those years ago. The kind that takes your breath away with its strength, fills your heart to the point of bursting, envelopes you in its warmth and becomes a part of you. The type of love that people craft into stories that are passed down through generations.

She believes in it, because she _has_ it. She had to wait for it, like her grandmother said, and it took the end of the world for her to find it, but find it she did.

She found Rick.

He grins at her now, and then rolls over and pulls her on top of him. He tucks a few locs that have fallen in her face behind her ear, plays with the ends of them, and questions her.

"What're you laughin' at?"

She smiles brightly, shakes her head and looks away.

"Nothing. I just…"

She trails off as she thinks.

She believes her grandmother now. But even still, there's something the woman got wrong all those years ago.

Because she knows the love she has is real.

She _knows_ , and she never questions it. She can't. The truth of the love she feels, and the love that is returned back to her, is ingrained into her entire world and being. It proves itself with every look he gives her, with each touch they share, with all the quiet moments they steal away from the world. It's evident in every kiss that passes back and forth, in every breath that's shared between them, every time they make love and every time they hold each other close.

It's there, with every beat of her heart, flowing through the blood in her veins, absorbed into her cells, and it's _real_.

She turns back to him, runs her finger down the side of his face and then scratches gently through his beard. She leans down, kissing the corner of his mouth, and then pulls away.

"I love you," she whispers.

He smiles.

"I love you," he returns.

He kisses her, and it's _so real_.

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 **A/N:** There you have it! I'd love to know what you think, so leave a review if you want to :)

I miss Richonne.

xoxo,  
Rebekah


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